Tennyson was a moron....
I just came to a realization. Well, not really a realization, since I've known it from the start. One of the main reasons why I blog is because for the most part, I really don't have anyone to talk to. Actually, I guess there a few friends here and there that I can talk to, but I'd rather not. I often prefer to keep my thoughts to myself, and blogging is a good outlet for me. I'm not really comfortable baring my thoughts and feelings to even my closest friends, I just don't want to show my vulnerabilities to anyone.
I'm feeling a bit vulnerable now, and I don't think I'd want anyone I know to know that. So what is it that has been bugging me? Let's see...so how do I put it...
Despite the cool exterior that I project to most everyone I know, in truth and in fact, on the inside I'm actually a wreck. I'm a very emotional person, much too emotional for my own good, and try as I might, I can't control the way that I feel about things, about situations...about other people.
There are times...very rare times, that I go out on a limb to express my true feelings, and it is at these times that I feel most vulnerable...like a soldier walking the streets of Iraq without even a helmet. And what makes it worse is the fact that what I feel is not shared by other people.
I try my best to read the signs, to come up with an objective assessment of the situation at hand, but sometimes, despite seeing signs which clearly oppose the direction I want to go to, I still proceed, maybe sometimes with the faint hope that I may make it to my destination somehow. Most of the time though, I don't, and this may very well be one of those situations.
I admit it. Emotionally, I'm weak. I tend to depend on other things or other people for emotional support. That's why I often detach myself from other people, other situations. I absolutely abhor being put in a position that I have to be emotionally dependent on something or someone else, because if I don't get that support, despite my best efforts, deep inside, I crumble like a cookie. For years, the only way I've dealt with this weakness of mine is by avoiding being dependent on other people, by keeping to myself. Sometimes I do take risks. Sometimes the risk pays off. Mostly though...like now I suppose...the risk doesn't.
I just don't deal well with failure. Strangely enough, failure has hounded me for most of my life. I have failed in a lot of things, and the list keeps on growing. What's ironic is that deep down, beneath the cynical exterior, I'm an idealist. I believe that what you sow is what you reap, I believe in karma, good or bad, I believe in the power of the truth. Sadly, the real world is much, much more complicated than that. And though I have known that from the very start, I persist in my optimistic views...only to tumble down, like being shot by a sniper, I never see it coming.
Now here I am again. Faced with all the facts that I have gathered, the objective response is to withdraw. I continue to fight, and I am obviously losing. Maybe I should cut my losses and pull back. Maybe I have already lost, but I'm too stubborn to admit it. Maybe I'm not even losing, but like a bullet wound it still hurts like hell. To be honest, I can't even seem to tell the difference anymore.
I'll probably be laying low now. For the life of me, I don't know what I'm doing anymore. Sometimes, I get this feeling that I know what I'm doing, then suddenly I don't. I really, really don't.
I'll be alright I guess. I always end up okay. Battered, bruised and scarred, but otherwise unscathed. Who am I kidding?
Alfred Lord Tennyson in his poem In Memoriam A.H.H. said: It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Tennyson was a moron. Maybe I don't really mean that, but for now, I do. I like this quote from Otomo No Yakamochi better: Better never to have met you in my dream than to wake and reach for hands that are not there.
And with that, and a heavy heart, I soldier on. Helmet or no helmet.